Escape From Jeju Island

         Recently, I took a ferry to Jeju island, which is a couple hours south of Korea.  It was a great weekend- the scenery was beautiful, the weather was warm, and I got to hang out with an old friend.  But sometimes, the real story doesn't happen when you're on vacation in an exotic, far-away place.  The real story happens when you try to come home.

This place is kinda pretty.

Down by a beach.

On a walk through the park.

At the trick art museum.  So many tricks.

Mirror, mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?
It's me, right?  It's totally me. 

Classic.

         On the way to Jeju, I'd left from a port that was maybe ten minutes from my house.  But when I got to Jeju, I found out I was on the opposite side of the island from my friend.  It had resulted in a long and pricey taxi ride.  So for the way back, I came up with a great idea.  I'd take a ferry that left from a port closer to my friend.  Unfortunately, it wouldn't be able to go directly to my town, but it could take me to Mokpo.  That was fine- Mokpo is only an hour bus ride away from me, and public transportation is great in Korea.  I figured I'd hop on a bus and be home in time for dinner Sunday night.  This turned out to be a terrible plan.

       So after a fun weekend, I showed up at the harbor right around 4:30 on Sunday afternoon.  As I came up to the ticket counter, I heard the ERRR ERRR of a foghorn in the background.

       "One for Mokpo," I said.  

       The lady at the desk pointed in the direction of the foghorn.  "Mokpo goodbye," she said.

       "But there's one at 5:20, right?" I said.  "I checked on the Internet."

       She shook her head sadly.  "Sunday, no."

       Well great.  Mokpo was out.  I thought about heading back to the port that I'd come in at, but it was an hour away, and probably done for the day, too.  So I did what any reasonable person would do: I started throwing out random Korean cities and hoping there'd be a ferry somewhere.

       "Wando?  Haenam?  Anything?"

       "Hmmm..." said the lady.  She got on her cell and had a quick conversation with someone.  After she hung up, she looked at me, smiled, and said, "Nokdong."

       Nokdong?  What the hell is Nokdong?  I know most of the cities and towns in my area, and I'd never heard of this place.  If I ended up too far from my region, I'd be in for a day of bus rides.  And there was just one small problem with that:  I had to work tomorrow.

       "Nokdong where?  Odi?" I said.  I made a circle with my hands.  "Korea," I said, holding out my hand-map.  "Nokdong where?"

       The lady looked at me like I was insane.  Honestly, I can't blame her.

       "OK, fine.  One for Nokdong," I said, handing her my card.  I figured, what's the worst that could happen?

       The ticket actually turned out to be cheaper than my one to Jeju, so I was pretty happy.  On my first ferry ride, I'd been on this fancy double decker ship that had huge TVs everywhere and rows and rows of airplane style seating.  So maybe this one wouldn't be quite as luxurious, no big deal.  But when I boarded, I noticed that my ticket didn't have a seat number.  Weird.  I showed it to one of the staff, and she smiled and motioned for me to head down a hallway.    

       At the end of the path, I came to an open door that led into a massive room.  Inside, there were no seats.  There were no big screen TVs.  There were just hundreds and hundreds of Koreans crammed into this one room, sprawled out all over the floor.  Oh Jesus.

       My first thought:  I must be on some kind of immigrant ship.  This is what my great-grandparents endured on their way to Ellis Island.  Bodies were huddled into corners, one crossed over another.  There was one small path which cut through the room, and I started slowly walking down that.  I had no idea what I was doing or where I was going.  After a minute, I realized the Koreans were separated into these square sections, and inside of each section seemed to be a group of people that knew each other.  Was I just supposed to crash one of these parties?  I stopped walking to survey my options.  Needless to say, I was the only white person in the room, and I'd already begun drawing a lot of attention.

       "Eh!"  I spun around to see some Korean dude looking at me.  He reeled off a couple sentences in Korean, of which I understood very little.  Then he waved me over.  Alright, what the heck.  I've got nowhere else to go.  So I kicked off my shoes and joined him and his friends.  About half a second later, beer, soju, and a plate of fried chicken were shoved in front of me.  Things were looking up.

Madness.

Dinner time!

       "Thank you.  Camsamnida,"  I said.  He tried to talk to me in Korean for a bit, but I explained that I only knew a little bit.  

       "English!  English!" he called out.  He dragged some fifty-year-old lady over to me.  "English speak," he said proudly.

       "Hello," she said.  "You go Nokdong?"

       "No, no," I said.  "I live in Jangheung."

       They all gasped.  Then they started whispering to each other in worried voices.  Jangheung?  Jangheung?!?  Even though they couldn't put it into English, it was pretty obvious what they were thinking:  What in the world is this guy doing here?

       The woman started to speak again.  "There is Jangheung ferry.  Why not?"

       I wasn't really in the mood to explain my idiotic plan, so I just pointed at her watch and said, "Time, no.  I was too late."

      "Ahhh," they all said.  

      "So..." I said.  "Nokdong bus to Jangheung?" I asked.

      "No no no," someone said.

      "What?"  I admit, I was starting to get a bit anxious.

      "One bus, Nokdong to Beolgeyo.  Two bus, Beolgeyo to Jangheung."

      OK, so I could get back, it would just take a few bus transfers.  But I had never heard of this Beolgeyo place, either, so it seemed like I might be pretty far from home.  Still, I figured I'd get into Nokdong around 7 and set out for home.

      "Tonight, bus no," said the man.  "Time out."

      "Bus terminal closed?" I said.

      "Yes," he said.  "Sleep where?"

       My day just kept getting better and better.  It looked like I'd be spending the evening in Nokdong, and then I'd leave the next morning.  Would I make it to work?  Who knew.  And as the man had so kindly pointed out, I was homeless for the night.  But when in doubt, I always stay at Korean bath houses, or jjimjilbang.  You have to sleep on the floor with a bunch of people, but it's really cheap.  I think it evens out.  

      "Jjimjilbang?" I asked.

      "Ah OK, OK." the man said.  He pointed at himself and mimicked driving.
      "You'll drive me there?"

      He nodded and smiled.  All joking aside, Korean people have got to be the kindest, most generous people I've ever encountered.     

      After we finished eating, a couple women brought out cups full of small wooden sticks.  Again, I had no idea what was going on.  Was this another strange Korean delicacy I'd yet to try?  Because I really wasn't looking forward to chewing on splinters.  Another guy came over to sit by me, and it turned out he was a doctor who spoke pretty good English.  He explained that they were about to play a Korean gambling game called yutnori.  Once I saw the piles of cash start to mount, I knew he was serious.  Gambling in Korea is illegal, which I think has turned Koreans into a bunch of repressed addicts.  I looked around and saw cards and sticks in every corner of the room.  They didn't stop betting until the ship arrived two hours later.

It's business time.

       Once we got to the port, I said my goodbyes, and the first guy drove me to the jjimjilbang.  I spent the night, woke up the next morning, and got on a bus to Beolgeyo.  I still wasn't sure if I'd make it back in time for work, but I knew it was gonna be close.  I took a bit of a nap on the bus, and when I woke up I saw that I had about ten missed calls and messages from my school.  They seemed pretty frantic, saying things like, "Where are you?  We are so worried about you."  Someone from the school must have gone by my house and realized I wasn't there.  Just as I started to type out a response, my phone died.  Of course it did.  But at this point, I didn't care- I was only focused on getting back. I transferred from bus to bus, my first class drawing nearer, until I eventually got to a town I recognized.  A half hour later, and I was finally home.
       First things first, I went in to find my assistant.  She still looked uneasy, even though I was right there in front of her.
       "Where were you?" she asked.
       "Umm..."  I said.  "I don't really know."
       "A doctor call the principal and tell us about your ferry problem."
       "What?!"  Once I got over the shock, I realized that was how everyone had found out.  The doctor had actually looked up my school's number, and called them to make sure I was OK.  It's kinda hard to believe how concerned people are about me, but I have to admit, it's heartwarming, too.
       Anyway, I went back to my house for a minute, changed clothes, and grabbed my lesson plans.  When I made it to my classroom, I basically just collapsed into my chair.  The clock said 2:00 pm, and my class started in twenty minutes.  I couldn't help but smile.  Just another day of teaching English in Korea.